


Triad

by soarkke



Category: Akira (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 05:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soarkke/pseuds/soarkke
Summary: A rewrite of Otomo Katsuhiro's manga AKIRA, putting more focus on the boy Akira and his impact on the city of Neo-Tokyo. Three factions will grow to try to control it. Neo-Tokyo has always been on shaky ground, but now it appears that it might burst at the seams.Basically a love letter to my favorite piece of media of all time.





	Triad

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first real fic :) so id love some feedback if you feel up to it! i just wanted to write about AKIRA but couldnt think of anything new, so i just basically redid it. tags will be updated as the story goes on.

Kaneda winced. He knew running his bike over the broken-down roads of the Old City wouldn’t be great for its suspension, with all the bumps and cracks. But he didn’t really have a choice. He whipped his head around, stealing a glance towards the dark road behind him. Nothing. For now, anyway. As long as he could make his way back into the New City, he’d be safe. The crowded and cluttered streets of Neo Tokyo at night could hide him and Akira easily.

Speaking of Akira, he still hadn’t made a sound since they started escaping. Kaneda shifted to get a better look at him and sure enough, the small boy was still on the back of the bike, his arms wrapped around Kaneda’s waist. Unassuming and compact, Akira seemed small for his age, though Kaneda wasn’t quite sure how old the boy was. Not that it mattered much.

“Are you, uh…doing okay back there?” Kaneda shifted again, looking back at Akira to search for any sort of reaction.

Akira didn’t respond. He peered up at Kaneda for a moment before turning his head away and wrapping his arms even tighter around the older boy’s waist; Kaneda’s bright red leather jacket groaned under the increased pressure.

“I’ll just take that as a yes, I guess,” Kaneda mumbled. “At least you’re doing good. I don’t even know if you understand what’s going on.”

He kept himself quiet for a little while, just listening to the thrum of his motorbike. They would make it to Neo Tokyo soon. But what would they do then? Kaneda couldn’t hide Akira all by himself. He wasn’t even sure if it was safe to. Everyone seemed to be afraid of Akira not too long ago. Was keeping him around and away from the military a good thing? _Whatever_. It’s not like he could trust the government with a “weapon” like this. Maybe Kei would know what to do. He could try and find her later. After Akira was safe.

“Do you have any friends?” Kaneda asked. He kept his eyes on the road this time, but still hoped for some sort of response. “I mean, _did_ you have any. Since you were asleep and all. Before that whole cryogenic sleep thing, did you have friends?” His mind began to wander toward his own friends. His biker gang, Kei, and even Tetsuo, despite Kaneda currently trying to run from him.

Again, Akira didn’t respond to Kaneda’s inquiry. He shifted in his seat, possibly as a sign of acknowledgment.

They were about halfway to Neo Tokyo now; their ride was a mixture of Kaneda’s nervous prattling and Akira’s poignant silence until some of the city’s bright lights were in view.

“I wonder if we’re still a safe distance from Tetsuo… Driving for so long has me tiiiired!” Kaneda let out a long yawn, slowing his bike to an eventual stop. “I’m sure we can stop for a minute. What do you think, Akira?” He slid off his bike to stretch, yawn again, and tousle Akira’s hair. “You can stand up too, y’know!”

Akira glanced from Kaneda to the road behind them before raising his arm, pointing to where they came from. As soon as Kaneda began turning to look, the sound of an engine came into earshot. Gangs didn’t usually hang around this deep into the Old City. _And_ that was just where they came from. Kaneda hoped he was wrong, but his hunch was probably right.

_Tetsuo_.

He was riding a motorbike, but his hands weren’t anywhere near the handlebars. In fact, his arms were crossed in a defiant sort of stance. Maybe it would’ve been funny if the situation didn’t present so much danger. Kaneda shifted his weight, trying to make himself seem more intimidating, and stretched out an arm to shield Akira sitting on the bike behind him. Akira remained unmoving.

“Kaneda! You know you can’t run away!” Tetsuo roared, which was surprising considering his small frame. He brought his bike to a stop, before standing to face Kaneda. “Just hand over the kid. Wouldn’t want him to get hurt when I smash you to pieces, Kanny,” Tetsuo sneered. He stretched his arm out to his side and in one fluid, graceful motion, brought it above his head. A loud _crack_ rang out in the empty ruins of the nearby city. Chunks of the road began to shift and crumble before traveling along the arc of Tetsuo’s movement. With that, fragments of asphalt hung suspended above Kaneda.

He lorded the pieces over Kaneda like some sort of authority while trying to explain his motives and ideas, but Kaneda didn’t really listen much. Thinking about it, this situation _was_ funny in a way. Tetsuo was probably the least scary person Kaneda could think of. He was small in more ways than one—he was short, his voice wasn’t exactly deep, he wasn’t even strong. Tetsuo used to be considered the “runt” of Kaneda’s gang, so to see him like this? Acting like he had some real power, when he used to be bossed around…Kaneda might have laughed, but that would’ve just made Tetsuo angrier.

Kaneda’s attention would have stayed in his thoughts had it not been for a rush of wind past his face. He could make out a bolt of grey iron and red rust for only a second before a flash of crimson sent a jolt of dread down his spine.

It was Tetsuo’s left arm. A long piece of shrapnel had been forced in between the elbow joint, the metal bar being so large it nearly severed it. For a moment, time stopped. Tetsuo, frozen with one arm still in the air, the other impaled, lips slightly parted, looked like a statue. Picturesque, tragic, completely unmoving. Perhaps the same could have been said about Kaneda, until he turned just enough to see Akira still poised on the motorbike, one arm stretched in the direction of Tetsuo, with his chest heaving from some sort of immense effort. Kaneda looked towards Tetsuo again just in time to see him let out a scream. But Kaneda couldn’t hear it. The shock of the moment numbed his senses so completely that he didn’t notice the pieces of asphalt that hung above him as they began to crumble and fall.

Kaneda whipped around to try and find Akira, hoping to find some sense in the situation. Just as his gaze came to rest on the small boy’s stern eyes, an image flashed in his mind of Kei. As the picture began to fade, dozens of visions of Neo Tokyo danced before him. It was a message from Akira. A hope that Kaneda would understand and know where to go.

Kaneda opened his mouth to try and make some contact or ask questions, but before he could his gaze moved skyward as if on its own. Smaller chunks of road pelted him before a larger piece swallowed up his vision.

He heard the cry of a child.

Then everything went black.

* * *

The ruined building Akira was brought to made him curious, if only because it was so torn apart that he wondered what it took to get into such a deplorable state. Not that he expected his captor to take him to a clean and well-kept place. A prison is still a prison, sanitary or not. At least the old diner booth seat he was on still had some cushioning.

Tetsuo was across the small room, pacing in such a restless manner that made Akira’s head hurt. If he needed to think, why couldn’t Tetsuo think while sitting down? Even standing in place would be leagues better.

Eventually coming to a stop, Tetsuo turned to Akira. “I bet you’re real proud of yourself,” Tetsuo sneered, clutching his arm, now without the piece of shrapnel. “Maybe if you tried a little harder, you could’ve cut my arm off completely.”

He was posturing, and Akira could tell. The attack had hurt not only Tetsuo’s physical body, but also his ego. How could he continue to appear as an untouchable god with such a substantial wound?

Akira dragged his unimpressed gaze to the side, away from Tetsuo. Anything to make Tetsuo know nothing he had done had made any real impact on Akira.

“Oh, come on! You think you’re too good to listen to me? I know what you are, and I know what those stuck up scientists did to you,” Tetsuo yelled. “We’re the same, whether you like it or not.”

That sentiment wasn’t really the truth, but Tetsuo _couldn_’_t_ know what Akira had been through. Though normally silent, Akira let out a laugh. A real laugh, not just something to mock Tetsuo. A voice suddenly broke into Tetsuo’s mind. It sounded like a child but jaded to the point that it gave some sense of maturity.

_“It_’_s hilarious how you think you can understand me_._ You can barely understand your own feelings_,_ so what makes you think I would ever help _you_ in this state?” _

Akira’s days at the beginning of his stay at a government research facility were as normal as a situation like that could be. He was in a group of kids around his age from all over the original Tokyo before the destruction, brought into a repurposed cancer study center.

He was always surrounded by kids his age in the playroom, filled with usual children’s toys like letter blocks or dolls. It seemed like normal activities for children, but they were constantly being tested. Making the toys float or changing the channel on the television without touching the dial was common.

The only problem was that Akira tended to lead towards destruction. Crushing toy cars, shorting out T.V.s…he never meant anything by it, it was just a matter of not having enough practice with his powers. This wouldn’t have been a problem, if he gradually his actions under control. But his power matured, growing stronger to a point where keeping him contained meant isolation. Psychic or not, children need to socialize, and being stuck in his own little quarantine wasn’t good for the young boy. This forced seclusion only made him grow to resent the way other people worked, and how they thought in such small ways that confined them. Akira’s powers grew, but so did his estrangement from common morality, his humanity.

Sure, rational thought is _human_, but at some point, it’s possible to go overboard. In that way Akira and Tetsuo were on two sides of the same scale. Both immoral in some way, but their own experiences molded an individual unattached from their own realities, rational and irrational respectively.

Throughout Akira’s stay in the facility, the threat of World War III loomed in the outside world. The children were never told or warned. Soon, they were rushed deeper into the facility to prepare for some sort of “sleep”. Hibernation, like a fluffy bear during winter. The other children went along, but Akira knew what was waiting for him. He wouldn’t allow himself to be fooled. It was cryostasis.

Akira was the last child to be taken into the cryostasis chamber, but he made his feelings known. He was terrified. He didn’t consent to this. Sure, he didn’t want to die in some bombing, but shouldn’t he at least get some say in this? Normally silent, the child was dragged to the chamber kicking and screaming down the pristine halls before his forced silence through hibernation.

As the war passed, culminating in the destruction of Tokyo, the children were woken up one by one, except Akira. He was kept asleep deep underground, away from the public, until they were ready to control him.


End file.
